


The Grey Areas

by mrs_leary (julie)



Series: Multitudes [2]
Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-25
Updated: 2010-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/mrs_leary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bradley has encountered darker, more intriguing aspects of Colin than he’d expected, and the two men have spent a night together. Can they now turn that connection into a lasting relationship?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Grey Areas

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** This fic contains nuts. Also (consensual, loving) bondage and mild Dom/sub play. And probably not quite as much beard!porn as you’re expecting.
> 
>  **Notes:** This is a late birthday present for **cotharay** … I promised her mutual beard!porn after first seeing Bradley’s beard at the Forbidden Planet autograph session (yes, almost six months ago!) and, in short measure, cotharay provided an appropriate banner and icons. The banner includes the most utterly perfect quotation from one of John Keats’ letters. (You not only read my mind, my darling girl, but my future–mind, and that’s awesome!) And so here we are at last… Bradley himself is back to being clean–shaven, and I’m finally fulfilling my end of our deal. I can only hope the wait was worth it! ♥

♦

♦

### February 2009 | Cardiff

Bradley had texted Colin with the time his train was getting in to Cardiff from Devon, and while he didn’t expect to be met at the station or anything like that, he had at least been expecting a reply with a room number or a clue as to where and when they’d get together. But, nothing. So he checked in at hotel reception and headed for the lifts, pondering whether he should call the git or if he should just wait – or maybe not wait but just do whatever it was one did when _not_ waiting for Colin Morgan to call you back – or whether thinking about this so much meant he urgently needed to grow a pair, but the thing was he’d already missed Colin, he’d _ached_ for Colin over the past week, and he wanted just to be with him again, just to see him, to make sure he was real, _it_ was real, this thing they’d shared, this understanding they’d reached over the course of one adventurous night, or had Bradley just been imagining the whole wonderful thing…?

‘Bradley!’ came a cry in that unmistakeable warm brogue –

– and Bradley turned with an unquenchable grimace of relief on his face to see Colin dashing across the lobby towards him. Which was an unexpectedly enthusiastic greeting, and to be honest Bradley wasn’t sure if he was prepared for a public hug, and _oh god_ maybe Colin even intended a kiss – but Bradley steeled himself for it anyway. Then the reason for Colin’s haste became clear as Bradley saw Dave, Tony, Katie and Angel over Colin’s shoulder, coming in through the revolving door and staring bemused after Colin’s receding back –

– and Colin himself muttered, ‘Sorry, couldn’t get away,’ as he reached Bradley’s side. Then he lifted a hand to shape around Bradley’s jaw, rubbed the pad of his thumb down the week’s worth of stubble, considered Bradley curiously. ‘Look at you!’ he murmured. ‘And so enticingly fine…’

‘Colin –’ Bradley said roughly. The man looked just as gorgeous, just as wild as he’d done in Glasgow. ‘Col –’

‘Yes. Bradley, _yes_.’

The lift dinged to announce its timely arrival, and it was empty so they surged inside together, dragging each other into this tiny haven of privacy – Colin hit a floor button – and as the doors were closing Colin leaned closer and closer to Bradley, his sinfully pretty lips pink and full in the midst of the shaggy dark beard targeting Bradley’s own lips, Colin’s gaze pinning him against the back wall – Bradley’s mouth open, panting with want when they’d hardly even touched yet – dazed and waiting for this lithe long confident creature, the dangerous irresistible Colin of Glasgow to reclaim him –

– and as soon as the doors clunked shut, Colin was pressing against him, mouth and hands hungrily grasping, and Bradley gave himself over to this wild beautiful man –

– and the lift dinged open and they were already there, only a stumble away from Colin’s room – only –

Bradley turned his head to be met by gasps of laughter, and he felt cool and exposed where Colin had been pressed against him. They were in the lobby still, and Katie and Angel were staring into the lift with wide eyes and wide grins – giddy laughter from Katie, and Angel lifting her hands to cover her mouth but her eyes laughing brightly over the top – Anthony behind them looking surprised, and then colouring up and bursting into giggles – and Dave just not knowing _what_ to do.

‘Sorry,’ said Katie – though she wasn’t. ‘Pushed the button too soon.’

‘Right,’ said Colin, firmly taking charge. ‘You won’t be doing that again in a hurry, will you?’

‘Mmm… no. Probably not. Well, _possibly_ not…’

Bradley didn’t trust her for a moment, but Colin set his jaw, and pushed the button for his floor again – and they both stood rigid, as far apart as reasonable and with their gazes on the floor, while the doors closed again. Not looking at each other as the lift at last hauled them up towards safety. Not looking at each other, though Bradley could see Colin in his mind’s eye, his dark hair still thick with curls, his beard virile, his face as pale and delicious as full cream, and those unsettlingly knowledgeable blue eyes currently a little too remote, all of him _so fucking beautiful_ – but already something different about him, something more relaxed, younger, happier, that spoke of Merlin rather than the darker place in which Colin had been until yesterday.

The lift dinged, and Bradley dutifully followed Colin out into the hallway. But of course Colin noticed immediately that Bradley had turned a bit reluctant. Nevertheless, Colin said, ‘Come to my room, yeah?’

But Bradley – who’d been longing for exactly that for days now – shook his head. ‘I’m an idiot.’

‘No, you’re not,’ Colin murmured, as if such a notion barely even registered. ‘What’s the problem?’

Bradley gestured down towards the lobby and their colleagues, then out towards the rest of the world, who were no doubt already being alerted to the news. ‘Now they know something about me that my Mum doesn’t. And I spent all week not telling her.’

Colin nodded. After a moment, he suggested, ‘You wanna call her, then?’

‘Yeah. Am I completely pathetic?’

‘Course not,’ Colin scornfully replied.

‘Look. Before I do this.’ Bradley sighed, knowing he was being deeply uncool. ‘You and me…’

And a moment after Bradley trailed off, Colin nodded. Just once, but firmly. ‘Yeah. You and me.’

♦

‘So,’ said Colin when Bradley showed up at his door almost an hour later.

‘So,’ Bradley agreed.

Colin glanced away for a moment, and shifted restless, as if wanting to avoid this. But then he looked very directly at Bradley, and asked, ‘All right?’

‘Yeah. Sorry it took a while. Amazing how much we didn’t talk about last week.’ Bradley shrugged. ‘She wants me to be happy.’

‘Course.’

‘Yours, too?’

‘Yeah.’ Another restless shift. ‘She’s a nurse, yeah? Thinks she’s seen a lot more of life than anything I might get up to.’ They exchanged glances that might have been smirks if they’d dared.

‘So,’ said Bradley. ‘You gonna make me happy, Colin Morgan?’

‘Thought you’d never ask.’

♦

It had only been a week, but they were frantic with it. Urgent. Fumbling. The cool confident Colin of Glasgow was lost in this demanding needy clumsy man – they stumbled towards the bed together, mouths already engaged – fell across it, hands already wrestling with belts, buttons, zips – plunging inside to grasp hardness, gasping into each other – Colin pushing over to lie half over Bradley, to thrust into his hand muttering ‘more – more’ – while his own hand dragged an orgasm out of Bradley in some kind of record time, seconds flat, the heel of his hand rubbing against Bradley’s cockhead while his thumb pushed down between his balls – Bradley bucking up against the man, shaking with it, crying out – Colin shouting as he came, too – and the heat of it washed through them, leaving Bradley panting, trembling, sticky, _together_. They were together.

‘Oh god,’ muttered Bradley. ‘Oh god.’

‘All right?’

‘I’d forgotten –’ Though he’d thought of nothing else. ‘I’d forgotten –’ How intense it was. How incredible Colin was. How thoroughly Bradley’s life had been turned around.

‘You’ll remember now,’ Colin said, though the inflection almost turned the statement into a question.

‘You and me,’ Bradley answered. ‘You and me, for sure.’

♦

‘You wanted beard sex again,’ Colin had reminded him, before lifting a hand to run fingers and then his palm around Bradley’s jaw. ‘Think I’m wanting it, too. So soft and fine…’ he murmured in appreciation of the week’s stubble.

‘Not manly like yours,’ Bradley countered.

‘Not thick and scratchy like mine,’ Colin had amended. ‘Sure you wanna…?’

‘Oh god yes.’

So now they were curled snugly into a circle, with Colin going down on Bradley, creative and unexpected in how he applied lips and teeth and tongue and indeed beard and even nose to Bradley’s cock and balls and the tender skin inside his thighs and every other possible sensitivity in the vicinity – and Bradley was doing the same to him, echoing his every move as best he could – inexperienced and eager and slowly being driven out of his mind by the giving as much as the receiving – and Colin was delicious, intriguing, different. _Cocksucker_ , Bradley named himself. _Cocksucker_ – and he had no idea now why that was supposed to be an insult – Colin Morgan was the most amazing thing Bradley had ever tasted, touched, seen, smelled, heard – oh yes, his throaty groans reverberating through Bradley from his ears to his toes, and everywhere in between.

‘I’m gonna – I’m gonna –’ Bradley finally stuttered, pressing his face against the silken skin of Colin’s cock, against the steely hardness of it. ‘Oh god –’ remembering he’d never come with just a mouth before Colin, and now it was all he could do not to – ‘Colin! Please –’

Colin pulled away, smiled with wistful wickedness before tucking his head in against Bradley’s thighs, suckling at his balls, rubbing his bearded chin against Bradley’s cock – and Bradley was coming, coming, seed splattering a gorgeous mess across the sheets and against Colin’s chest. And he lost it for a while, adrift in the pleasure and the echoing vibrations of it, slowly pulsing away forever and forever – and he’d never known men could have orgasms like that, he’d thought it was only women and only if he worked _hard_ and _careful_ at it, but now he knew, now he knew –

Then Colin said, ‘Bradley!’ in tones half needy, half apologetic – and he stirred himself to do the same thing – to suckle Colin’s balls and rub his own stubbled chin against the base of Colin’s cock – Colin reaching in desperation to fist himself, but he hardly even had a moment in which to wrap palm and fingers around his long lovely cock – Bradley knew enough already to send him to the edge and then over it – Colin came with a cry, and he pushed closer, stretching out tall and winding his arms tightly around Bradley, pressing close so they were no longer curled in a circle but instead shaped long and hard and… together. Like a column, the two of them. _Together_.

For some weird reason Bradley started shivering, though he wasn’t cold, and it wouldn’t stop for ages, not until _way_ after Colin had dragged him under the covers and into his arms. ‘All right,’ Colin was murmuring to him. ‘It’ll be all right.’

Though all Bradley could honestly reply was, ‘God… god… Col, it’s all right _now_.’

♦

The read–throughs and rehearsals were kind of a shambles, but Bradley didn’t mind cos all he could think about was Colin, and even the ultra professional and deadly serious Colin Morgan just seemed mellow and happy, and Bradley was giddy with the thought that maybe he had something to do with that happiness even if it was just Colin’s version of well–shagged. Bradley would make him laugh by playing Arthur as David Bowie, James Cagney, Sean Connery – then as Colin himself might play the part, which totally cracked Colin up. ‘Mmm…’ said Colin once he’d calmed down again, ‘I see how that could work…’ So they swapped roles and spent the rest of the day’s rehearsals with Colin as Arthur, wearing the armour over his hoodie, and Bradley as Merlin, with the blue neckerchief round his throat. Dave Moore, the director for this block, was bemused, but trusted them enough to let them get away with it. Johnny Capps, however, was not amused at all.

♦

An impromptu council of war was called in the offices the next morning. ‘There’s something going on between you two,’ Johnny announced in dire tones, indicating Bradley and Colin.

A moment’s tense silence stretched as everyone round the table tried not to meet each other’s gaze, tried not to smirk – as everyone wondered whether this could _possibly_ still be news to _anyone_ involved with the show. Finally Tony was the one who cracked – he spluttered into giggles, while Richard chuckled with great rich deep satisfaction, and Katie shouted a laugh. Poor Dave looked shamefaced, though, as if he knew he should have maintained better control than this.

Colin’s cheekbones were stained red – Bradley abruptly blushed in sympathy, flushed _all over_ in unwelcome self–consciousness, suddenly exposed as a cocksucker and fearing he’d been a bit of a git as well. Colin, however, had turned fierce and defiant. ‘What of it?’ he asked.

‘I don’t mean _that_ ,’ Johnny spat out, even angrier now at being misunderstood and thought naive. ‘Do what you like in your own time, with each other or not – it’s nothing that hasn’t been done before, believe me. But on _my_ time, you’ll do what you’re here to do. You’ll _work_ , and you’ll work _hard_.’

‘We _have_ been working,’ Colin insisted. ‘You know we have.’

‘What you got up to yesterday – it would have been an interesting exercise in drama school. It might have been fun once the season was well underway and had developed its own momentum. It’s of no use to anyone when we’re barely five days into rehearsals for a season that will make or break us.’

Dave offered, ‘To be fair, Johnny, they kept it to scenes where –’

‘I like that you’re prepared to stick up for them,’ Johnny said, interrupting him. ‘I appreciate team spirit. It’s not your behaviour at issue here.’ Then he turned again to Colin and Bradley. ‘You’re young men – not boys, but men. You have the best jobs in the world. You’re succeeding in a competitive business through hard work and natural talent and a great deal of luck. But if you stuff this up, you’re not the only ones out of work. There are people relying on you – not just tens of people but _hundreds_.’

Bradley felt appalled, but Colin had just turned furious. ‘You don’t need to remind us –’

‘Don’t I?’

‘We take this _seriously_.’

‘Right. Well.’ Johnny folded his arms, but then gestured briefly with one hand. ‘The beards are coming off.’

 _‘What?!’_ from both of them, and even a few expressions of concerned protest from around the table.

‘It’s a distraction. It’s not Merlin and Arthur. I need you focussed.’

Katie protested, ‘You’ve no right to –’

‘Yes, he does,’ Colin quietly cut in. ‘Thank you, Katie, but he does.’

Bradley felt at his own beard – well, it was still just long stubble, really, and hadn’t yet grown in properly, but he _liked_ it – and he looked mournfully at Colin’s, which he _loved_.

‘If you don’t do it yourself,’ Johnny continued – ‘and frankly I’d rather you didn’t – I’ll have the make–up department do it tomorrow morning, first thing.’

Colin glanced at Bradley, who nodded helplessly. ‘All right,’ said Colin.

‘Good,’ said Johnny. ‘Right. Let’s get on with it.’

The rest of the day was grim, but no one gave Johnny the satisfaction of it being unproductive.

♦

The two of them approached each other outside the studios the next morning, warily. Both fresh and clean–shaven. Colin had even had his hair trimmed. He certainly looked more like Merlin now, which meant that Bradley couldn’t help but worry about whether Colin was feeling less like anything else.

‘You’re beautiful,’ Colin offered. ‘With or without facial hair.’

‘You, too,’ Bradley whispered.

Then Colin stepped forward, and pressed those astonishingly pretty lips to Bradley’s – and they were kissing, kissing, in public though there was no one around – kissing in the sunshine, as if this were the most natural thing on earth.

‘Colin…’ Bradley murmured when they were done, and standing there resting forehead to forehead. ‘Col…’

‘Yeah, it’s all right,’ Colin agreed. ‘It’s still you, Bradley, and it’s still me…’

♦

### April 2009 | Picardie

They had a night shoot scheduled, and weren’t due at the chateau until early afternoon, so they spent the morning lazing around in bed in Bradley’s room, dozing and snuggling and talking nonsense and teasing each other with lips and fingertips, seeing how long they could last without surrendering. But sooner rather than later Bradley was fucking Colin. He loved this. He _loved_ it. They’d done it every which way, but their default position was just like their first time, half on their sides and half pushed over onto their fronts, with Colin stretched out long and lithe beneath him, his knee jutting out to the side, their legs interleaved – both of them entirely naked but for the condom – and Colin would turn his face away and moan into the pillow, before twisting back towards Bradley from the waist, reaching back with an arm to card fingers through Bradley’s hair, to drag him in for a kiss – and Bradley would delve steadily into that tight dark place that held him so perfectly, the deep sinful pressure driving him wild with mingled need and frustration, because it was so fucking amazing that he would have come within two or three strokes like a schoolboy each and every time if he didn’t dig down hard within himself for control, clench down on it, and try to make it last for Colin. Colin… His own beautiful wild Colin… _Oh god… ‘Col!’_ he cried as the orgasm pounded into him, through him – and he reached a shaking hand to twine with Colin’s own on his cock, and after a few rough urgent tugs Colin followed him down with a groan that sounded almost agonised, his body clutching hard around Bradley’s suddenly sensitive cock so that Bradley moaned and gnawed at Colin’s shoulder until it was over, and he could carefully withdraw, and then they held each other, quiet and gentle, while the world slowly put itself back to rights around them.

♦

‘What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever done?’ Bradley asked as they lay wrapped up close together late that night – early the next morning, really – winding down after the night shoot.

‘Mmm…? Weirdest? I dunno. Stupidest would be running naked around both cathedrals back home on a dare.’

‘In terms of sex, I mean.’

Colin snorted softly. ‘That’s what I meant, too.’

‘Idiot.’ Bradley crushed him in a punishing hug, and persisted: ‘You’re gay, right. But you’ve been with women?’

‘Yeah. That’s not exactly what I’d call weird, Bradley.’

‘How about… with two women? Like, a threesome.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Every possible combination of threesome, if you really want to know.’

‘So, like… a guy and a girl and you… and two guys and you…’ _Huh_. An all–male threesome, Bradley thought. There was a notion that deserved some pondering.

Colin had pulled away a little so he could focus on Bradley in the dim light of the darkened hotel room. ‘Why d’you ask? Bradley –?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s just that…’

‘I’m perfectly happy being with you, you know.’

Bradley’s heart beat strong. ‘Good. Me, too.’

‘And anyway… an orgasm is an orgasm is an orgasm, right?’

His heart deflated again. ‘Try saying _that_ three times!’ he quipped.

Which apparently didn’t fool Colin, cos the man pushed closer again and pressed a gentle kiss to Bradley’s mouth. ‘You know what I mean…’ Another kiss, sweet this time. Then Colin asked, ‘What about you? How adventuresome have you been?’

 _Not very_ , Bradley only just managed to prevent himself from confessing. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘I’ve only had two really serious girlfriends. But the one in drama school? She was into… Well. Role–playing.’

‘Yeah?’ Colin even sounded halfway impressed.

‘I mean, it started almost like a class exercise. We’d pretend to be whatever characters we were playing or reading at the time, and imagine how they’d have sex.’

‘And by _imagine_ you mean…?’

‘Yeah, we’d do it, we’d act it out. And that kind of broadened to include characters from TV shows or movies we’d watched. And then… well, she was a bit of a writer herself, so she kept coming up with scenarios… To tell the truth, for a long while there, I figured all actors did that kind of thing.’

‘If they don’t, I bet they _wish_ they did,’ Colin said stoutly. Then he yawned, and stretched and wriggled in the way that meant he was settling himself. ‘Tired, sorry,’ he offered.

‘It’s all right,’ said Bradley. ‘Go to sleep.’ He lay there while Colin slowly drifted away, anchored safe in Bradley’s arms. At the last possible moment, Bradley confessed in a whisper that Colin might not even hear, ‘They’re better with you.’

‘Mmm?’

‘The orgasms. With you. They’re not just orgasms.’

And Colin sighed contentedly, and snuggled closer still before falling asleep.

♦

It took Bradley a while the next day to work up the nerve, and then it took him longer still to find a few moments with Colin somewhere they’d be undisturbed. ‘Look,’ he finally said once he could come up with no further reasons for delay. ‘The role–playing thing. Is that something you’d be into?’

Colin considered him for long slow moments, his eyes hooded as if considering his own thoughts as well. Bradley waited there fidgeting, and forced himself not to say anything more, not to defend or explain, not to retract. Eventually Colin asked, ‘What did you have in mind?’

Bradley held out his hands in a palms–up appeal. ‘Well. Merlin and Arthur. What else? At least –’ daring thought – ‘to start with.’

A slow nod, as Colin took this in. Thought about it. Still that appraising look, directed both externally at Bradley and internally at himself. Then Colin observed, ‘It would be their first time.’

The breath caught in Bradley’s throat. ‘What?’

‘They’re both virgins.’

‘Oh.’

‘You know that.’ Colin scrunched up his face. ‘Don’t you?’

‘Yeah, I guess. I just… hadn’t thought about it. In this context.’ _God_ … Bradley struggled to draw an even breath. The thought of him and Colin both pretending to be new to all this. The thought of Colin with Merlin’s unexpected mix of innocence and confidence. Merlin’s devotion to Arthur and yet his complete lack of deference. Colin bringing all of that to their bed…

‘So what’s the backstory?’ Colin asked. ‘What’s their motivation?’

‘Sheer unrelenting horniness, I should imagine!’

Colin grinned at him for that, but then continued very seriously, ‘Is it about _them_ wanting it, or is it about their destiny?’

And that completely snatched his breath away. ‘Oh god, _Col_ ,’ he complained when he could. ‘How long are we shooting today?’

‘Till ten.’

‘I just – We get everything done in one take, all right? We _nail_ it.’

‘Sure,’ Colin agreed, in the simplest tones.

‘And then…’

‘And then,’ the man promised.

♦

Bradley was fumbling with the armour in his hotel room that night when Colin let himself in. They always got a spare key for each other these days, but this was different. Colin had the neckerchief on over a regular t–shirt and jeans, and he was moving like Merlin, frowning a little like Merlin – busy and distracted. There were always discarded clothes in Bradley’s room, shoes lying about, the contents of his pockets spread across the desk. Colin shook his head, and began haphazardly pottering around in full Merlin mode, muttering something as he began tidying up.

‘What was that?’ Bradley asked in Arthur’s irritable tones. ‘I hate it when you mutter.’

Colin turned to look at him, and there was Merlin’s wide–open face, his affection, his impatience. ‘Nothing important, sire.’

‘Well, _obviously_.’ Bradley – Arthur was going to continue, but Merlin was still looking at him, his clear expression turning a bit quizzical. Bradley’s hands dropped to his sides, defenceless. _‘What?’_ he asked.

The remaining candour disappeared in an instant. ‘Nothing.’ Then Merlin started walking towards him, gesturing at the armour. ‘D’you want help with that?’

He wanted to say no, but he couldn’t. Arthur stood there while Merlin circled him, those long fingers working at the buckles and straps with surprising efficiency. Mesmerising.

‘Ready for bed?’ Merlin murmured as he peeled away the armour, with the barest hint of provocation in the tone – and when Arthur’s gaze darted towards him, Merlin’s smile quirked a little wryly. ‘ _Shall I get you_ ready for bed?’ he clarified.

Arthur gestured wordlessly. _Yes_.

Merlin put the armour down on the nearest flat surface – the seat of the only chair, as it happened, and Bradley would have to remember not to sit on it without checking first – then those long fingers were at the hem of Bradley’s sweater – Arthur’s tunic, slowly yet relentlessly lifting it, his every move deliberate, like a dance, with Arthur watching helplessly, lifting his arms to let Merlin draw it up and over and off. Dropped it on the floor. Slipped fingers in under Bradley’s – Arthur’s t–shirt, accidentally brushing the skin at his waist, and – _oh god_  –

He wasn’t going to last, he was so very hungry for this man – they’d been together for two months now and Bradley had never wanted a man before, not really, but he wanted Colin every day, every night – he’d have him every hour if he could, it was just getting worse and worse, or was that better – and Merlin’s cool remoteness as he undressed Arthur was driving Bradley mad. One of the points of this role–playing lark was to make it last, but he couldn’t, he _couldn’t_ , he wanted – He _wanted_  –

The barest glance once Arthur was bare–chested, as Merlin’s fingers reached between them to pop the button on Bradley’s jeans – trousers – britches – _god damn it_. The barest glance with yearning creating a liquid heat in those intense blue eyes only inches away from Arthur’s, Merlin was standing so very close, damn him, and then bending down – swiftly so that Arthur gasped in shock – to push Arthur’s britches down his thighs.

And then it occurred to him that Arthur was a virgin, for god’s sake, he was entitled to feel this overwhelming _urgency_ – and he was the crown prince of Camelot, he was _entitled_  –

He stepped out of the jeans, shaky with lust with daring with blood – dressed only in his boxers now, while Merlin was fully dressed, rising smoothly to stand before him, to reach delicate provocative fingertips to the waistband of Arthur’s –

Bradley hooked fingers into the neckerchief – muttered ‘Merlin’ in a warning, a plea – saw those eyes flare startled, obdurate denial following impassioned relief across that transparent face –

‘No, I –’ Merlin managed before Arthur’s mouth silenced him – and then after a brief squirming struggle, they were kissing, both of them, inexpert but so very hungry, just _devouring_ each other – Bradley dizzy with it as he played along, Arthur not knowing enough to breathe properly, gasping for air in the few instants when their lips weren’t sealed together. ‘No,’ Merlin protested again, voice rising from low in his chest – and Arthur wound his arm around Merlin’s waist, dragged him that last inch so they were pressed together, each as hard as the other – and Merlin moaned, sagging a little in Arthur’s hold, surrendering, even while another _no_ bubbled out of him.

Arthur let him go, and began pushing Merlin’s coat back off his shoulders, dealing with _his_ clothes now with brisk efficiency.

‘Not this as well,’ Merlin mumbled, even as he fumbled at the buckle on his belt.

‘Why not?’ Arthur asked, drawing the man’s threadbare tunic up over his head.

‘Everything I do is for you,’ Merlin said earnestly, pausing to stare at Arthur. ‘My whole life revolves around you.’

‘And your point is?’ Arthur asked in clipped tones as he reached for the fastenings of Merlin’s britches.

Merlin began heeling off his boots. ‘ _You want this of me as well?_ I’m never to have anything at all for myself?’

‘That’s –’ Bradley paused, assessing the man. Merlin had bent to push down his jeans and briefs, and then he stepped out of them, and he was naked. His cock standing rampant. ‘You’re not going to try to claim you don’t want it, too,’ Arthur said roughly.

‘No. I can’t do that.’ He didn’t sound happy about it, though.

‘That’s the way it is,’ Arthur insisted.

Merlin scowled at him. ‘Just because you’re –’

‘It’s not because I’m the prince and you’re my servant.’

‘No?’

‘It’s because…’ A breathless moment passed. They stared at each other, considering. Wanting. ‘It’s because,’ he whispered, ‘I’m Arthur and you’re Merlin.’

‘Oh,’ said Merlin.

‘It’s because… it’s you and me.’ And Arthur reached for him, wanting to draw him close again. Merlin irritably batted his hands away. Arthur drew a sharp breath, ready to start insisting, maybe even ordering if he had to –

But then Merlin reached for _him_ , one hand at his nape and the other at his waist – and Merlin stepped close, and then they were kissing, Arthur’s arms wrapping around bare skin, kissing and holding and exploring… and it was the hottest sweetest thing Arthur had ever known.

♦

Merlin on his back in the prince’s bed, panting, waiting, open. Arthur’s hands slippery with oil, having finger–fucked him until he was moaning unaware. Bradley was sitting back on his heels now between Colin’s bent knees, his wantonly spread thighs, and Bradley was fumbling physically, verbally, complaining about ‘this very medieval condom’. And then at last he was ready, and he positioned himself, hauling Merlin’s hips up so his rear rested on Arthur’s thighs. ‘All right?’

Merlin was watching him warily now, but he nodded once, as if resigned to his fate and basically wanting it over with – so Arthur began gently, gently easing inside. And Merlin gasped, put his head back, arching up in a curve that somehow both matched Arthur’s path and fought him all at the same time.

‘Easy now,’ Arthur murmured – ‘There now,’ as he might to a skittish horse – Merlin glared at him – ‘Let me. Let me in. You need to just… let me in.’

‘What d’you know about it,’ Merlin complained. But he relaxed a little, and Arthur pushed a little further in – and by the time Arthur was sunk in deep and his balls were resting against Merlin’s narrow rear, they were both panting with the need for more. ‘All right?’ Merlin asked.

Arthur scoffed a breath. ‘Me? God yes. What about you?’

‘Yes. Yes.’ He sounded so full he could hardly even talk. ‘Do it, then, damn you. Do it!’

He kept it gentle and slow despite Merlin’s increasingly foul imprecations and demands. Until finally he leaned his weight forward on one hand – driving himself in deeper still, curling Merlin up into a tighter curve below him – and he fisted Merlin’s cock, began deliberately pumping in time with his own thrusts. And then Merlin lay there, just watching him, quiet – those blue eyes endless and… and… _loving_ – they were full and overflowing with love – and Arthur gasped as the emotion rolled into him like a tidal wave – Bradley gasped – and when the end came maybe as a result of nothing more than that devastatingly loving gaze, they collapsed into themselves, pulsing in, two made into one, forged together now like the metals of the finest blade, stronger combined than apart – and Arthur murmured _‘Merlin’_ as if he knew this had been his destiny all along.

♦

‘Colin,’ said Bradley as they lay there afterwards.

‘Mmm? Bradley,’ Colin named him, reclaimed him.

Then Bradley didn’t say anything for a while, because although it had been incredibly hot to be Merlin and Arthur, it was better still to be Colin and Bradley – and they were both warm and dozy and snuggled up comfortably together. And anyway, Bradley was pondering something. ‘Colin,’ he eventually continued. ‘Am I… doing it wrong?’

‘No.’ But then, almost immediately, ‘Sorry – What? Doing what wrong?’

‘Um…’ The room was dark now, and his face was tucked into the safe place between Colin’s shoulder and the pillow. ‘Fucking you. I mean, like – the actual _fucking_. You know.’

‘No, of _course_ you’re not doing it wrong. Idiot. Why d’you ask?’

‘Because… I love it.’

‘Mmm… and?’

And, Bradley reflected, Colin seemed to find the act easy, certainly painless – and he was so utterly beautiful as he lay there beneath Bradley, so long and lithe and bent and confident – but he never _lost_ himself in it, he was never _passionate_ about it. ‘It’s not as good for you as I want it to be.’

‘That’s about me, not you,’ Colin said very easily, as if this wasn’t news to him, and it wasn’t any big drama either. ‘It’s not that I don’t like it. There are just other things I like a lot better.’

‘I think… I think _I’d_ like it. If you… fucked me.’

‘Do you indeed?’ Colin replied tartly.

‘Why haven’t you?’

Colin seemed to consider this for a while, though it was obvious he already had the answer. ‘Because I don’t think we should be rushing things. If we’re together for a while, then we have plenty of time. If we’re not, then… maybe it’s better we don’t take it too far.’

‘Well,’ said Bradley, a little sulkily. ‘Anyway. I think I’d like it.’

‘Noted,’ said Colin.

‘And if…’ But Bradley paused for a moment, and he sighed. He couldn’t do this angry. He couldn’t be mad at Colin, not while they were in bed together. That wasn’t right. So he relaxed again into Colin’s embrace, which tightened around him, and he offered, ‘If there’s something I can do different, to make it better for you – will you tell me?’

‘Yes,’ Colin whispered hoarsely. ‘Thank you.’

‘All right,’ said Bradley. And he resettled himself, more than ready to call it a night.

But then Colin asked carefully, ‘Was that really what you wanted to ask me? About the fucking?’

‘Yes.’

‘All right,’ Colin murmured. ‘Night, Bradley.’ Bradley pressed a kiss to his shoulder. And after a quiet moment or two, Colin slipped away into sleep.

It wasn’t until the next day, when Colin was off filming in an entirely different part of the castle, that Bradley thought to wonder what else he should have asked.

♦

### May 2009 | Cardiff | London

‘What about bondage?’ Bradley asked as they were lazing about in Colin’s hotel room one night.

‘What?’ Colin asked vaguely, hardly even glancing up from his book.

Bradley had his head down at the foot of the bed, playing with his Nintendo DS, but he dropped it to the carpet, and rolled over onto his back, pushing up on his elbows so he could see Colin where he sat up against the headboard. ‘What about bondage?’ he repeated. ‘What about, like, Dom/sub stuff?’

Colin stared at him in astonishment. ‘What about it?’ he asked.

‘You wanna try it? Show me how it’s done?’

The astonishment ramped right up to unbelievable. ‘Fuck’s sake, Bradley! What am I, an _amusement_ park to you?’

‘Ooh!’ he said brightly, unable to stop himself. ‘D’you have a Pirates of the Caribbean ride?’

 _‘Fuck off, Bradley!’_

‘OK, all right. Sorry. I was just joking.’

‘Ha ha.’

‘That was bad timing –’

‘The worst.’

‘Hey, but you set it up! I just ran with it.’

‘Oh just shut up and go away, would you? I’m not in the mood.’

‘Colin…’

 _‘I want to read my book, Bradley,’_ the man announced, biting out every word.

Bradley lay back down, and stared quietly up at the ceiling for a while. When he sensed that enough time had passed for Colin to have calmed down again, he asked lightly, ‘Colin? Is that something you have experience with? _Oof!_ ’ he added as Colin’s book landed on his stomach. Luckily it was a paperback rather than one of his hardcore academic tomes.

‘Why?’ asked Colin, a bit cagey.

As if it wasn’t obvious. ‘Because I thought, you know – we could… experiment a bit.’

Colin looked at him darkly, but admitted, ‘Some experience, yeah. Not much.’

‘Well, d’you wanna…? I don’t mind if we’re both learning.’

‘It’s not the sort of thing you just –’ Colin let out a sigh. ‘Or maybe it is. What do I know?’

‘Obviously you know more than me!’

Colin was still massively reluctant. ‘Where’s all this coming from?’

Bradley shrugged. ‘Nowhere in particular.’

‘Aren’t you pushing things a bit far? You don’t have to… to do anything to impress me.’

‘I know that,’ Bradley lied. ‘I just thought… maybe… you’d like to tie me up.’

Colin’s breath hissed in through his teeth.

‘Have your wicked way with me.’

After a pause Colin said oh–so–casually, ‘Well. Maybe.’ But the glitter in his eyes betrayed him. Perhaps Colin had been assuming it would be the other way around, but he was definitely on board now.

Bradley grinned. ‘Then you’d _have_ to fuck me, right?’

Which was when he lost Colin again. ‘No, I think… if we get around to that… we shouldn’t be playing games for your first time, Bradley.’

‘Does it really matter?’

‘ _Yes_ , it matters. We should just be… ourselves.’

He asked flatly, ‘Who’s that, then?’

Colin looked at him, full of misgivings.

And Bradley shut up then, cos it looked like Colin was starting to think this was all A Very Bad Idea Indeed.

♦

However: ‘Come to mine Saturday night,’ Colin had said in the last moments as their train pulled into Paddington.

‘Yeah?’ Bradley queried. ‘You sure?’ Because Colin often liked to have his weekends free to catch up with his friends and his reading. To enjoy the kind of ‘alone time’ one never quite got while away filming, whether or not Bradley was around. Bradley had learned the hard way to let him have his space.

‘I’m sure.’ Colin looked at him steadily, but his eyes were liquid, intense, hot and anything but steady.

Bradley breath snagged in his throat. ‘And then…?’

‘And then,’ the man promised.

♦

Bradley was shaking with nerves when he showed up at Colin’s place at last, but he was so very sure he wanted this – and after a long assessing look Colin seemed to realise that, too, and he didn’t make Bradley ask or insist all over again. Instead he took Bradley by the hand, and led him over to the sofa, where they kissed and cuddled for such a long while that Bradley got past his nerves and his impatience, and was pretty much just _glowing_ with lust – and then Colin pulled away a little, and looked at him again, ran his knuckles gently down Bradley’s cheek. ‘All right?’ he asked.

‘Yeah,’ Bradley replied, breathless. ‘Please,’ he added.

Colin nodded. ‘Come on, then.’ And they stood, and Bradley was shaking again, but Colin took his hand with firm yet careful confidence and led him – not to the bedroom, as Bradley was expecting, but only to the empty doorway between the living area and the long hallway. Without letting go of Bradley’s hand, Colin picked up something made of black and silver. ‘I’m gonna shackle you up here,’ he said, indicating the doorway. ‘These clamp to the frame, and they bind your wrists and ankles. You’ll have a bit of movement, but not much. All right?’

 _All right?_ He didn’t have a clue. Though now at least he realised why there was a towel spread on the floor between one room and the other. His heartbeat was racing deliciously, and he nodded, knowing his eyes must be as wide and vulnerable as Colin had ever seen him.

‘Don’t get too manly about it, though. I’d hate to have to explain to the landlord if you tear this woodwork apart…’

There was good–natured humour in there, but Bradley couldn’t respond to it.

Colin smiled at him in fond apology, realising that this had to be entirely serious. ‘Sorry. I know you won’t get all Samson and Delilah on me.’

Bradley shook his head. He had to behave. He had to control himself. He could do that.

‘I’m gonna strip you naked first,’ Colin said. An assessing gaze swept down the length of him and back up again. ‘If you want, I’ll leave your boxers on for now. But,’ Colin confided, ‘if I do, I’ll probably cut them off later. What d’you think?’

He managed something that sounded perilously close to a whimper, and wondered what kind of embarrassing noises Colin would be drawing out of him by the end of the night.

Colin put the shackles down again, and turned to face Bradley directly. Lifted his hands to cup Bradley’s face. Looked into his eyes, and made sure he had Bradley’s complete attention. ‘This is you and me, Bradley. _You and me_. And you can trust me. You know you can trust me. Say my name,’ he said.

After a moment, he managed, ‘Colin,’ without even stuttering.

‘And what do you know – what do you know _implicitly_?’

‘I can trust you.’

‘Good.’ Colin let him go and took a step back, but still addressed him directly. ‘Once we start, I’m going to do whatever I want to you. All right? I’m not gonna be listening to anything you say, whether you’re asking or denying or begging or telling me no. I’m not gonna listen if you call me Colin. But I’m gonna give you a safeword. You know about safewords, Bradley?’

He nodded. It was amazing the stuff you could find on Wikipedia. Illustrated, too.

‘If you call me Merlin, I’ll stop. I’ll listen to you. I’ll unshackle you, I’ll do whatever you ask. All right?’

Another nod.

‘You’ve called me Merlin before. You know you can say it if you need to. Say it now.’

‘Merlin,’ he whispered. Then he cleared his throat, and voiced the name properly. ‘Merlin.’

‘All right. I’m going to start now.’ And even then Colin left a pause in which Bradley could voice a protest or use the safeword or just plain change his mind and walk out. But Bradley simply stood there looking mutely at him, and waited to be told what to do. ‘Good,’ said Colin approvingly. ‘I’m gonna strip you naked,’ he announced, before leering a little in a rather sweet Colin Morgan way. ‘I think you’re up for that, Bradley James. I think you’re slut enough to even like it.’

He felt his face flush, but it wasn’t with shame. It was with need.

♦

Colin didn’t challenge him too far, he didn’t do much that they hadn’t done fifty times before. But the strangeness of it, the weirdness of being bound – which seemed to both restrain and free him – and the unexpectedness of being upright in a doorway, when he’d imagined being in much the same position but lying on Colin’s bed – the strangeness seemed to heighten every kiss and lick and caress a hundredfold. Colin started simply by kissing his mouth, by running gentle hands around his ribs and up to his shoulder–blades. Every touch and kiss was almost delicate, and teasingly withdrawn only to alight somewhere else. Colin had hardly worked his way down to Bradley’s nipples before Bradley was begging for _more_ and _now_ and _harder_ … and of course Colin just laughed under his breath, and continued the exquisite torture.

At last Colin stripped off his own shirt so he was bare–chested and barefoot, dressed only in his low–slung jeans and briefs. And he dropped to his knees. Bradley moaned in encouragement, thinking an end was in sight. Foolishly, of course. Colin bent to mouth at the tender skin just above Bradley’s left knee, and he slowly slowly worked his way back up towards what Bradley hoped was his ultimate goal. But still Colin would not touch Bradley’s cock. He used the tips of tongue and fingers to wriggle at his balls, but Bradley’s cock stood hot and hard and ignored just a breath above these caresses which weren’t enough, they weren’t enough.

‘Please. _Please._ You’re _killing_ me here. Please –’

Colin paused for a moment, tilted his head as if listening.

And Bradley knew he could end this now, he could call the man Merlin and demand that he finish this. But that would be entirely beside the point, wouldn’t it? It would mean he’d failed at a game he himself had asked for, even if – even if he’d imagined nothing like this at all. _‘Please, Colin,’_ Bradley begged.

The tiniest of nods, as if Colin was pleased – and then the man ducked his head, and had suddenly crawled through between Bradley’s legs, was standing up behind him – gnawing at his nape, firmer than anything he’d done thus far, and Bradley groaned raggedly, needing that, needing that, only nothing was ever quite enough. Gnawing across to the join of neck and shoulder, biting just hard enough – Bradley flushed with heat – and suddenly –

– a slap to his buttocks, sharp and loud, and he went cold almost as if going into shock, but where Colin’s hand had been his skin burned. Another slap, hard, and Bradley cried out. The combined intensity of his need and this sensation was enough to send him giddy, and he sagged a little in the shackles, though he knew he had to – he couldn’t lose it, he had to hold his own weight –

Colin dropped to his knees, lathing the slap–marks with his tongue. And then – and then –

Bradley couldn’t even distinguish one nerve ending from another for a while, but it abruptly occurred to him that – that Colin’s hands were spreading him apart, and Colin’s tongue was at his hole, licking and wriggling and rasping –

– and oh god he’d wanted this _he’d wanted this_ , yet this was the first time Colin had even touched him there – and he cried out hoarsely, wanting more, wanting _more_  –

– and at last Colin showed him mercy – even as his tongue–tip pushed inside Bradley, he reached both hands between Bradley’s thighs, tugged firmly at his balls with one, and with the other ran a finger–tip from base to head of Bradley’s cock –

– and the seed followed the path Colin set, and fountained out of him – Bradley _howled_ and the world went black.

♦

The light burst back in a heartbeat later, and Colin was standing, wrapping his arms tight around Bradley, one hand shifting down to gentle Bradley’s cock, the rest of him urgently pressing hard and close. His jeans were down round his thighs, and he was rutting against Bradley’s buttocks, groaning throatily.

‘Fuck me, Colin,’ Bradley urged, the feelings still flowing and ebbing through him, ebbing and flowing, the light fading in and out and in again. ‘God’s sake! **_Merlin!_** _Fuck me_.’

‘No. No. Don’t ask me to.’

 _‘Please!’_ Bradley tugged uselessly at the shackles.

‘No. _Arthur,_ _no_.’

Bradley was about to beg once more, but he had to respect that, didn’t he? That was, in effect, Colin’s safeword. And he knew Colin would have respected Bradley calling him Merlin. ‘All right, Colin. All right, sweetheart,’ he soothed. ‘You come like that for me. Come for me, Colin. God, you are just _magnificent_ , do you know that…? No one’s ever done anything for me like you do.’

And Colin suddenly whimpered, and stilled, clutched on tight – and his seed pulsed out wet against Bradley’s rear.

♦

The man was hardly even done when Colin dropped to release Bradley’s ankles, reached up to release his wrists. ‘All right?’ he asked with his voice dry and husky, one hand at Bradley’s waist steadying him.

‘ _God_ yes,’ as he rubbed at his skin where he’d been bound, felt his circulation strong. He was fine. ‘You?’

‘Yes.’ Colin nodded to confirm this, which was just as well cos he didn’t sound too certain. He bent to grab the towel, bundling it around Bradley’s spent seed, and then quickly used a corner of it to clean them both up. ‘Bed,’ Colin said. ‘If you wanna stay…’

‘Course I do.’ They were basically holding each other up at this point. Bradley wasn’t going anywhere. Unless he wasn’t welcome. ‘I could sleep on the sofa, if you’d rather –?’

‘Bed. There’s a bottle of water there. I’m thirsty.’

Bradley chuckled as they made their way down the hallway together. ‘Thought of everything, didn’t you?’

‘Had to. If you were gonna trust me to –’

‘Colin, I’d trust you with my _life_. I’d trust you with everything I had.’

If he didn’t know better, Bradley would have thought tears welled in Colin’s eyes then. Or if they did, no doubt it was only due to exhaustion. Going to physical and emotional extremes. ‘Wanted to take care of you, Bradley,’ Colin muttered.

‘Good. Now let me take care of you for a bit.’ And soon the bottle of water was half empty, the duvet was wrapped close around them both – and Colin was snuggled up against Bradley, head tucked into Bradley’s shoulder, snoring gently into Bradley’s ear. And Bradley stared sightlessly up at the ceiling, thinking long and hard about what he did have and what he didn’t.

♦

### June 2009 | Picardie

‘What’s going on with you two?’ It was Tony asking, of course. No surprises, Bradley supposed, that he should be the one to broach the open secret of Colin and Bradley’s relationship – but at least he’d timed it well, and there was only the ‘family’ of the main cast there in the restaurant, most of them mellow after sharing three–too–many bottles of red wine with dinner. ‘Have we been privileged enough to watch the start of something serious?’

Bradley stared fixedly at the man, unable to look away despite silently scolding himself for doing his inane–rabbit–in–the–headlights thing. He was pricklingly aware that Colin, sitting beside him, had stilled and was frowning.

‘Is this love?’ Tony asked. ‘Or something?’

Katie snorted into the silence. ‘Certainly _something_ ,’ she echoed whimsically.

Rupert, the newest member of their family, was fiddling with his remaining cutlery and obviously wondering whether he should even be there or not. ‘You sound like a bad eighties song,’ he offered when no one else spoke.

‘Perhaps…’ Angel carefully began.

But Colin had already opened his mouth with a turbulent scowl – obviously about to tell Tony to mind his own fuckin’ business –

‘The human heart,’ said Richard, smoothly cutting him off, ‘works in marvellous ways, which can never be reduced to mere words.’

‘Oh that’s very good,’ Tony said warmly. ‘Where’s that from?’

‘I think I just made it up!’

‘No, it sounded like a quotation.’

‘Well, it was probably Shakespeare, then,’ Richard said, beaming rather disingenuously.

And the difficult moment passed with the two older men bickering over misremembered quotes, and Angel regaling Katie and Rupert with some nonsense about the fans having decided that Morgana and Leon belonged together.

Colin had slumped a little, and was staring intently at the table now. Silent. Carefully, giving no hint of movement to anyone else, Bradley eased his knee closer to Colin’s and rubbed against it in what he hoped was reassurance. After a long moment, the pressure was returned, and soon after that the last of the scowl disappeared. By the time they were all back–and–forthing over whether to have coffee here or at the hotel or not at all, Colin had recovered enough to glance up at Bradley with a rather promising looking smile, and he didn’t even complain when Bradley surreptitiously shifted his hand over to wrap around the top of Colin’s thigh.

Life was pretty damned good. Even if Bradley himself was wondering quite how he would have answered Tony, let alone how Colin might have.

♦

Bradley was on his knees straddling Colin’s thighs, with his weight on one hand, and two well–lubed fingers of the other thrusting deep into Colin’s arse. And Colin was making the most delicious moans into the pillow, and his hands clutched fitfully at the sheets, he was arching his back to meet Bradley’s possession of him at the perfect angle… almost as if he were really enjoying this, really getting off on it. ‘Hey,’ said Bradley softly. ‘Turn your face towards me. I wanna see you.’

A mumbling protesting moan as Bradley stilled, and Colin shifted clumsily, Bradley carefully staying with him. Colin ended up in much the same position in which Bradley usually fucked him – his lower body up on one hip, his waist twisted, his shoulders almost lying back against the bed. A brief molten blue glance before Colin closed his eyes, but his face betrayed as much as his eyes ever could.

Bradley began gently relentlessly thrusting again, watching the flush of arousal on that pale face, the lips pouting over shallow shakily–drawn breaths, the long eyelashes trembling just above those astonishing cheekbones. After a while, Colin arched as if seeking the perfect angle for this configuration, and then the arch became a long sensual stretch which vividly demonstrated Colin’s suppleness, his surprising elegance, his sheer wantonness… ‘Sweetheart,’ Bradley breathed, almost daring to believe, ‘you’re liking this…’

Colin moaned low and throaty, somehow conveying _it’s perfect_ and _make it better still_.

‘God, I love fucking you,’ Bradley murmured low, ‘but I wish you liked it this much.’

A moment held, and then Colin relaxed a little from his stretch, and his heavy–lidded eyes were considering Bradley with an enigmatic wariness.

Bradley had thought about why, of course, and wasn’t vain enough to seriously think that his own cock was too big for comfort. There had to be something else. ‘Have you had… some kind of bad experience in the past?’

Colin shook his head. No.

Bradley slowed his thrusts, gentled them. ‘Maybe,’ he tried – ‘maybe you’d like it better without the condom. Maybe you’d feel it more. Like you can feel my fingers now.’

Colin snorted inelegantly. ‘Maybe _you_ would, you mean.’

The magic had fled and they were back in the real world. Bradley carefully withdrew his fingers, though he stayed where he was and shaped his hand around that delectable narrow rear. ‘Colin,’ he said, meeting the man’s direct gaze. ‘Colin. I’ve had the test.’

Colin just stared at him for a long long moment. And then he abruptly pulled away, dragged himself up the bed to sit against the bedhead. ‘What?’

‘You probably won’t believe me, you’ll think I’m just saying that.’ Bradley sat back on his heels. God, how had they gone from oh–so–intimately connected to distant in less than a minute?

‘No, I trust you,’ Colin said, very directly and seriously. His hands were fisting the sheets to either side of his hips again, but for different reasons. ‘You wouldn’t just say it and put me at risk. For the sake of a moment’s pleasure.’

‘Oh god…’ Bradley shifted again so he was sitting cross–legged, and he rubbed at his face with both hands, wrestling with his conscience. He had to be honest, didn’t he? That was how these things worked. ‘Maybe I would. I don’t know.’

‘You wouldn’t.’ Apparently Colin had far more faith in him than Bradley himself did, and it sounded like it wasn’t only a foundation but actual bedrock.

‘You are so fucking good, Morgan,’ he bleakly responded, ‘maybe you’d drive me to it. _I_  wouldn’t trust me, if I were you.’

‘Bradley…’ Colin said on a sigh. They stared at each other for another long moment. Then just as Bradley was about to suggest they distract themselves with a DVD or something, Colin blurted, ‘I’ve had it, too.’

‘What?!’

‘You heard me.’

‘The test, you mean? And you’re all right?’ His heart was suddenly pounding like it might explode with terror and grief. _‘Colin. Are you all right?’_

‘Yes. Yes, I’m fine. I’m negative.’

‘Oh god…’ He dropped his face into his hands again.

‘And you, I guess –’

‘Yes,’ he said. Then he lifted his head to say it directly. Clearly. ‘Yeah, I’m negative, too.’

‘Good,’ said Colin, though a bit remotely.

Bradley watched him for a while, mind scrambling. Then he asked, in what he hoped was a reasonable tone, ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Why didn’t _you_?’ Colin immediately retorted.

‘Because… because I was…’ _scared_. ‘I didn’t know what you meant, really, when you said, _You and me_.’

‘Well, what did _you_ mean?’

‘Oh god, Colin!’

Then at last that cool gaze faltered, and the man nodded. ‘All right. I shouldn’t always make you go first, should I?’

A pause lengthened, before Bradley decided he could at least make this easier. Already he wasn’t quite so scared any more. Already he knew. He unfolded his limbs, and crawled up the bed to settle beside Colin. Not touching – but if they were aligned together like this, surely they could face anything.

Colin turned his head about halfway towards Bradley, but it was still lowered. So Bradley had the most mesmerising view of eyelashes and a cheekbone when Colin said, ‘If I’d answered Tony honestly. I’d have had to say – it’s not something. It’s love.’

Bradley reached to hold his hand. ‘It’s love for me, too.’

‘I know.’ Colin had lifted his head to look at him now. ‘I never thought I’d ever have this.’ He gripped Bradley’s hand tight for a moment. ‘I know you think it’s… somehow admirable – cool – that I’ve had, uh… a wider range of experience than you. When it comes to sex, anyway. But it’s for such a fucked–up reason that – honestly – you’re _way_ better off. I don’t know why you see me as a good long–term prospect at all.’

‘What was the reason?’

‘I just never thought there’d be someone like you in my life.’ Colin chuckled under his breath. ‘It’s not that I would have “saved myself”. But I wouldn’t have… gone at it with such gusto, I suppose.’

Bradley found himself smiling despite the subject matter. ‘Going at it with gusto… sounds rather heroic,’ he mused.

Colin looked at him with a similar grin – half hilarity and half reluctance. ‘I would have saved you _something_!’

‘But you did,’ said Bradley murmured. ‘You saved me the best bit. You saved me the love.’ And he leaned in close, tilting his head towards Colin’s – lifting his free hand to trail fingertips down that long beautiful face – and he kissed those perfect lips. Knowing. At last _knowing_. ‘You and me,’ he whispered as the kiss transformed from mouth–to–mouth meshing into a nose–to–nose wriggle, a cheek–to–cheek caress, a forehead–to–forehead roll.

‘Yes. You and me,’ vowed Colin Morgan.

♦

But then, when they began to make out again, Colin wouldn’t let Bradley fuck him. And Bradley couldn’t for the life of him figure out why.

♦

### August 2009 | London

When Colin finally fucked Bradley, they were indeed simply themselves. Entirely naked, without even a condom. In Bradley’s bed, in Bradley’s apartment. Lying on clean white sheets, without even the duvet over them. With no lube but what they each spat into Colin’s hand. Arranged in their most familiar configuration – only this time it was Bradley panting damp into the pillow, reaching back a shaky hand to clutch at Colin’s nape, feeling blown and overblown with… blissful agony… agonising bliss. ‘That’s real,’ he gasped. ‘Oh man, that’s real.’

‘Bradley.’ Colin sounded pretty much at the end of his tether already. ‘Bradley. Say my name.’

‘Colin. Col. Colin Morgan.’ Bradley groaned as Colin pushed in deep again, and filled him full and fuller still. _‘Colin…’_

‘God! Tight. Too tight. I’m hurting you –’

‘No!’ Bradley’s fingers dug in, forcing the man to stay where he was. ‘Admit – I’m struggling – but I love it. _Want_ to struggle –’

‘Bradley. If you can _relax_  –’

He gasped a laugh then. ‘Want it _real_. You and me. At last. Together. Wedged together. _Welded_ together.’

Colin laughed, too, in a sort of breathless huff. ‘Bradley,’ he murmured – the fond tone in which he usually said _idiot_. He kept thrusting, but slower now – and he pushed around, mouth seeking a kiss, hand seeking Bradley’s cock.

For a few moments Bradley fought the sweet distraction, scowling into the kiss – but at last he surrendered to it – and a few moments later heat rolled through him, and he realised he had finally relaxed into the fucking, and he was nothing but molten flesh in which Colin Morgan was taking his pleasure – and Colin was causing pleasure, creating something beyond pleasure – the agony had vanished and been replaced by bliss, even more bliss on top of the bliss he already felt – Bradley was giddy and faint with it as it rolled through him again –

– and almost without realising, hardly even knowing, he was coming, his orgasm was pulsing hot throughout him, rolling through him, wave after wave – and Colin cried, _‘Bradley!’_ and the bliss and the heat were rolling through both of them, they were one in the midst of it, and when Bradley brokenly whispered, ‘You and me, Col,’ the other half of him replied, _‘Us. Together. Us.’_

♦

‘An orgasm isn’t just an orgasm,’ Colin announced into the darkness of Bradley’s bedroom late that night. They were lying on their backs, not really touching, except their hands were kind of casually overlapping on the sheets between them. ‘I  _do_ know that.’

Bradley chuckled, not above feeling a bit smug. ‘That was good, then, was it?’

‘You know it was.’ Colin mock–tickled Bradley under his ribs with sweet fingertips. ‘Idiot.’

‘What I _know_ is,’ Bradley archly responded, ‘it was fucking awesome.’

A chuckle, before Colin finally said, ‘Yeah. Fuckin’ awesome.’ Then he added, in fainter tones, ‘You’d better fuck me now, too.’

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘It’s been –’

‘Months. Yeah. I know.’

‘– two months.’ Bradley stared up at the ceiling, wondering if he dared ask, or if this was one of the Colin Morgan Mysteries he should just accept. But ever since they’d talked about having had the tests, a conversation in which they’d finally used the L word – all of which had felt like a bit of a breakthrough at the time – Colin had resisted Bradley fucking him, and had taken his own damned time in prepping Bradley to be fucked. Maybe Bradley should just accept it. After all, Colin was the one who’d talked about them having plenty of time together, so there was really no need to be rushing things.

‘Look,’ Colin eventually said without any prompting other than Bradley’s thoughtful silence. ‘It’s just that I – Well. My first time barebacking. D’you know what that –’

‘Yeah. That was my first time, too.’ Bradley confessed, ‘It was pretty intense. I guess that’s one of the reasons why.’

Colin nodded – Bradley could feel the slight rocking of his head through the pillows and the mattress. ‘Yeah, so it was just gonna be too much reality.’

‘All right,’ said Bradley, as easily as he could. ‘What’s changed, then?’

‘Nothing.’ And Colin turned to him in the dark. Reached for him. ‘Nothing. But I know now. I know – I  _want_ the reality.’

♦

### October 2009 | London

What Bradley wanted was to do the bondage thing again. Of course most of the time they just did the obvious things when they had sex, the simple things, the things of which no man could ever tire even if doing them – as Bradley was beginning to fervently wish for – with the same person for the rest of a very long life. But Bradley didn’t want to be humoured as a comparative innocent. There were times when he wanted to go at the weird things with gusto as well.

Colin agreed suspiciously quickly when Bradley raised the idea again, which prompted Bradley to assume that Colin wasn’t exactly reluctant to play Dom to his sub. ‘How far d’you wanna take this?’ Colin asked.

‘As far as you dare,’ Bradley replied, cocky yet sincere.

‘Right,’ said Colin decisively. ‘Let’s do some research.’ Which he took very seriously, of course. While Bradley browsed Wikipedia and peered at the illustrations, Professor Morgan bought and read books about how to be a good master. ‘Interesting…’ he’d murmur, and after a while pondering he’d even make notes. ‘D’you wanna read this?’ he’d offer, holding out the latest tome.

‘No, thanks,’ Bradley would reply. One day he added, ‘When they publish _BDSM for Dummies_ , you can buy me a first edition. Until then, I’m in your hands.’

At which Colin stared at him for a long moment – and then he asked, ‘What are you doing Saturday?’

♦

Colin had found a club down an alley with an anonymous matt–black door. Bradley blushed just walking through the crowd of myriad clientele in the lounge area, but he was hand–in–hand with Colin, so that was all right. Colin took him through the back, down a corridor, and ushered him into a room. Locked the door behind them. ‘No one else is here, no one can see us. No one can come in. We’re alone. You’re perfectly safe. Is that all right, Bradley?’

He nodded. Eyes wider and more vulnerable than ever.

Colin showed him how he could summon help, if he needed it, even while… strung up.

Strung up. Yes. That’s what had Bradley’s full attention, of course. A harness hanging in the middle of the room. Empty. Waiting.

Colin led him over to it, still hand–in–hand. ‘I’m going to strip you naked, Bradley, and strap you into this. Then I’m going to do whatever I like with you. Is that all right?’

Bradley nodded again. Then managed, ‘Yes, Colin.’

‘And if you want me to stop or do something different, what do you say?’

‘I call you Merlin.’

‘And if I don’t do as you want?’

Bradley glanced at the call button that Colin had shown him would be in reach even once Bradley was in the harness. But he said, ‘I  _trust_ you, Colin.’

‘But if something goes wrong,’ Colin gently persisted. ‘What if I can’t help you for some reason? What would you do?’

‘Press that button. Call for help. Don’t be embarrassed. Let them help me.’

‘Good. That’s very good.’ Colin kissed him, soft and loving, held him for a long moment in arms that almost trembled. But Colin had to be strong for him.

‘Will you fuck me this time?’ Bradley asked.

‘Is that what you want?’

‘Yes.’

Colin nodded. ‘Then I will. And I’ll love it. _Bradley_ ,’ he suddenly said quite fiercely: _‘I’ll love it.’_

‘Please,’ whispered Bradley. ‘Please,’ he whimpered.

‘We’ll start in a moment,’ Colin reassured him. ‘But there’s one more thing: I want to use cock rings on both of us, so it’ll last. Is that all right?’

 _God to be fucked by this man **forever** , while held helpless before him._ ‘Yes,’ said Bradley. ‘Please.’

‘All right. All right, Bradley.’ Soothing tones, and then Colin kissed him again.

‘I love you,’ Bradley blurted when his mouth was freed.

‘Oh god…’ Colin groaned. ‘God, Bradley, come here…’ And Bradley was led further into the room, where there was a sofa against the back wall, long enough to stretch out on, wide enough for both of them to lie there tucked up together. Upholstered in black, with cushions and a spread. Everything in this room was black – and dark, except for the spot–lit harness. Colin drew him down into a cuddle, and said, ‘This is me, all right? This is Colin. This isn’t your Dom reassuring you.’

‘Yes,’ said Bradley, knowing the difference but almost too far gone to appreciate it.

‘I love you, too. I really do. I want you to know that.’

‘I do. I know it.’

‘Good.’ Colin drew back a little, examined him carefully. Sighed a little. ‘I’ll tell you that in the morning, too. In the sunlight. Then you’ll know for sure.’

‘I know,’ Bradley whispered.

‘Good. Then let’s begin.’

♦

### November 2009 | Cardiff

‘You asked me a question once,’ Colin said to Tony. ‘Back in France.’

It was late, and cold, and they’d switched on the Christmas lights in Cardiff earlier that evening, and then they’d all gone back to the hotel in search of whisky to warm themselves up again. Tony hadn’t clicked yet, and perhaps still wasn’t quite recovered enough for his memory to be functioning properly. ‘Yes…?’

Colin took Bradley’s hand in his, clasping it for all to see. ‘You asked me what’s going on with us.’

Of course Tony understood now. A smile had already spread across his face. ‘Yes. I remember.’

Bradley was vaguely aware of being near the centre of attention. Tony, Katie and Angel were all watching both him and Colin, all smiling or grinning. All happy. Bradley himself was watching Colin, this amazing beautiful unexpected man. Bradley was beyond happy. Because: ‘It’s love,’ Colin announced.

‘Excellent. That’s really excellent,’ said Tony. ‘I’m delighted for you.’ And he stepped over to shake them each by the hand, and then bought them all another round of doubles.

The girls swarmed in for a group hug, with Angel making gleeful noises while Katie simply declared, ‘I knew it. I  _knew_ it’ – while grinning like a maniac.

Then Colin had his phone out, and was busily jabbing away at the keys. ‘Texting Richard,’ he explained – cos Richard was in Stratford doing Shakespeare. Colin read it out as he went: ‘ _I finally answered Tony. It’s love._ ’

And of course only minutes later the phone chimed to announced an incoming message – Tony claimed the phone, and read it out: ‘ _You certainly know how to make an old man very happy, and no doubt a young man, too. I wish you all the joy in the world._ ’

The celebrations continued, with Bradley hanging onto Colin with one hand and his drink with the other, and just letting it all flow peacefully past. Until Angel came to slip her arm around his waist, and tuck her head into his shoulder, looking up at him with a winsome smile. ‘Are you all right? You’re very quiet. Where have you gone?’

‘I’m orbiting the planet,’ he informed her. ‘I’m looking at the stars.’

She laughed. ‘This is what you always wanted, isn’t it? Even if you didn’t quite know.’

‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘Yes. But I couldn’t have even imagined it.’

‘It does my soul good just seeing you like this,’ Angel murmured. And she leaned up on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek.

♦

Of course Colin was all short hair and stubble for his reprise of Calum for the film _Island_ , but Bradley had taken advantage of the hiatus to grow a beard – the last morning he’d shaved had been on the last day he’d played Arthur. Colin seemed to love it, and when they were curled up or stretched out together in bed, he’d spend as much time rubbing his chin and jaw along Bradley’s as he would in kissing mouth–to–mouth. ‘You grew this for me,’ he murmured late that night as they lazily made out in the whisky afterglow, tucked up in bed and in each other’s arms but not yet ready for sleep.

‘I should think just about everything I do these days is for you, Colin Morgan.’

‘Good. That’s good.’

Bradley chuckled. ‘Maniac.’

‘Beard sex,’ said Colin. ‘We have to have beard sex again.’

The chuckle became a delighted laugh. ‘Bit ambitious for tonight,’ Bradley said. ‘I suspect all we’re up for right now is some beard cuddling… That all right by you?’

‘Perfect.’ The tip of Colin’s nose niggled its way along Bradley’s jawline. ‘That’s perfect.’

‘Who’d have thought?’ Bradley murmured. ‘One of the multitude of Colins is satisfied with just snuggling.’

‘They all are. I mean, _I_  am.’ Colin drew back to look at him properly in the never–quite–dark of the hotel room. ‘I’m not saying I’m not still a contradictory sort,’ he announced. ‘But I know better who I am now.’

‘Oh. Um.’ His heart was pounding, as Bradley pondered the significance of this. ‘You feel like your options are narrowing…?’

‘No, I’m… getting more focussed,’ Colin countered, easily and confidently. ‘At last.’

‘What do you know, then? Who are you now?’ In hushed tones, though he didn’t really fear the answer.

‘I’m Colin Morgan; I’m the man who loves Bradley James.’

♦


End file.
